Elrith Shadowstepper: The Neverwinter days
by Catra
Summary: This one-shot explains a bit of the background of the main character of my other story, Natha klez d' ssin wun l' oloth. Dedicated to Lady Miyu:D If you haven't read the first story, this may be lost on you, lol ;


_This mini-story is dedicated to Lady Miyu, who decided to cash in her free present for giving me my 80th review on Elriths main story! :D_

_Miyu, I hope you enjoy it:)_

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It was cold, it was raining, and I was huddled in a gutter.

"_I can't believe this, how did we go from the heir to House Kant'tar, to __**this**__?" _Dark screamed, Light was sobbing and rocking back and forth in my mind, while I just stared blankly ahead, while the unfamiliar feel of rain against my dark skin plastered my hair to my neck. I was shivering, and defensively holding my almost bare body as I tried to stick to the shadows. There were _rivven _everywhere, even in the rain, and I shrank back against the cold stone wall of the building behind me every time someone looked my way. Strange light flashed in the great empty space above me, followed by a rumbling noise that had me cowering in terror. The shivering grew more intense, and I could feel my clothing sticking to me. The _darthiir_ ranger and his companions had delivered me to the city after healing me. We could not speak with each other very much, since I did not know Common, and the _darthiir_ knew only basic Drow, but we managed to establish some form of communication. He told me that I would be safe in the city, if I could find a place called the Temple of Tyr, and tried to give me directions. As soon as I entered the city though, the rangers words were forgotten in the face of blind fear as soon as the first male looked at me. I had spent the last few cycles of light and darkness trying to stay hidden, while looking for this temple. This was not Ki'Hyatharii, and there were no statues of Lolth, nor drow guards to direct me. I was, alone.

"_You aren't alone child, you never are." _Light said, no doubt in an attempt to soothe me, but her words only turned my fear to rage.

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! Leave me _alone_!" I screamed aloud in drow, causing a large crowd of _rivven _to turn and regard me with dangerous and oddly hued eyes. A few males stepped forwards, and though their features were blurred due to the rain, and I couldn't understand their words, the cant of them was filled with loathing and anger as they realised what I was, stones were thrown, and I screamed as they tore my skin and dimmed my vision. I heard the words 'drow' and 'thief,' before I was grasped roughly by two tall men and was being dragged away from the safety of my gutter. I screamed and twisted, trying to loosen their hands from me, memories of Rashorii and his claws gripping me in the same way coming to the fore of my mind.

I lost track of time as I screamed and writhed, even trying to bite my captors, until I became aware that I was no longer being pounded on by water, and I was inside a building. I was thrown into a small room that had a pile of straw in one corner and a tiny privy in the other and stank of mold and neglect, while the two men who had seized me looked at me with disgust. I was now able to see them clearly, and shrank back, instinctively shielding myself with wide eyes and naked terror apparent on my face. The men were wearing tarnished and stained armour, the likes of which I had never seen before, and long blue cloaks with an eye emblazoned on them. The taller of the two, a heavy-set male with short black hair and a rugged face, was looking at me in a way that made me want to run. I had seen it on Rashorii, right before he would rip off my clothes and ravage me, and I was scared that the _rivven _might do the same thing. The shorter male was also looking at me, but it was with a different emotion on his harsh face. It almost seemed to be pity, and he turned to converse with the other blue cloaked man in Common, while I continued to shiver and breath in a erratic fashion as water dripped down my neck and face.

The _rivven_ both left, and I curled up on the hay and tried to slip into Reverie, but had no luck.

"_Why do we not just use a spell and run? We could kill them all!" _Dark yelled, while I put my hands over my ears and tried to drown her out by singing brokenly, a lullaby that the _darthiir_ rangers mate had sung to me.

Eventually, after my hair and body had almost completely dried, I heard a sharp creak as the iron cell door opened with a harsh squeal of rusty hinges, and a woman walked into my small prison. She was a _darthiir_, like the ranger and his mate had been, but she was different. Her skin was very pale, and she had long, flowing brown hair and piercing grey eyes. She was also wearing armour, but armour that shone brightly, hurting my sensitive eyes as I stared at her in fear.

"Do...you...speak...Common?" The _darthiir_ woman asked me in slow, broken drow, stepping closer. I shied away, pressing as much of myself to the damp stone walls of my cell as possible.

"N-no." I replied, the woman stopped moving, and held up empty hands to show she had no weapons.

"I...mean...no...harm. You, safe." She said, her voice soothing as she knelt on the filthy straw strewn floor to gaze at me. I slowly stopped shaking as a aura of peace seemed to flow from the _darthiir_ woman, making me feel secure.

"W-Who are you?" I asked, still afraid despite the fact that she clearly did not intend to hurt me.

"I am Aribeth." She replied, smiling at me gently. "I am a..." She searched for the right word, seemingly confused. "I am a warrior of the gods...a paladin." I nodded, unsure what a paladin was, but I gathered it was similar to a cleric from her aura. I raised a hand and pointed at myself.

"I am Elrith Kant'tar. Help me, please." I begged, turning so she could see the barely healed claw marks on my back and shoulders, and the bruising from the stones. I heard a hiss of indrawn breath, then felt a light hand hesitantly touch the wounds.

"Who...did this?" The _darthiir, _Aribeth, asked; rage filling the drow words, making them harsh and guttural. I flinched, and didn't answer. The paladin sighed, and I felt warmth infuse my skin, and the half-healed claw marks heal.

"Thank you." I whispered, turning around to give the woman a nervous smile of appreciation. Usually, I would have scorned the surface elf, but she had helped me when she did not need too. This was not the drow way, and it made me suspicious and fearful; but she genuinely seemed to wish to help me, and right now, I would take any help I could get.

"How...you get here?" She asked. "Why are you not in the Underdark?" I felt tears fill my eyes at the mention of my home, and I threw my head back and gripped my wrist tightly until they retreated.

"I was lured from my home, and abandoned. Please, can you take me back?" Dark was screaming at me for appealing to a surface elf for help, but Light was actually being rather reasonable about it.

"I am sorry, Elrith. I..cannot. You...chose a bad time to enter the city...a-" She paused. "Sickness, has...affected the people here. The city has been closed off...no one can leave." My heart sank, and I dug my nails painfully into my obsidian skin.

"Is there no way?" The paladin shook her head.

"I am sorry. You will...need to find...employment...somehow." She said, sympathetic, looking me up and down. "What...skills?" She pointed at me so I would understand her point, and I was suddenly very aware that I should have taken Figryst up on his lessons in the Arcane. I could only cast the most basic of spells, whereas if I had been schooled in proper magic, the mages of the city would have accepted me; despite being drow. As it was the only thing I could possibly be was a...tavern dancer, or a whore.

"Taverns? I-I can try to dance, else..." The woman looked horrified and she shook her head furiously, sending brown tresses flying around her armoured shoulders.

"No! If that is...all your skills?" I nodded. She sighed sadly, but got to her feet, tugging me up with her. At that moment, my cell door opened again, and another _darthiir_ walked inside. This one was male, and wearing a flowing white robe. Had to be a cleric. His hair was short, shoulder length, and brown like Aribeths, and his eyes were large and green.

"Fenthick, this is Elrith." Aribeth said calmly, as the male kissed her gently on the cheek. My soul screamed as I saw the love reflected in the eyes of both elves, they were so young! Neither of them could be older than one hundred...and they had love. It wasn't fair, and I couldn't take it.

"_Naive fools, don't they know love is just an illusion, that it only brings pain and death?" _Dark whispered in the brittle confines of my mind, her voice hoarse.

"_They do not know any better." _Light replied sadly.

"I...am...glad to meet you." The male said, in drow that was slightly less broken then Aribeths. I resisted the urge to sneer at him, the male could clearly influence the beautiful _darthiir _paladin, and if he decided I was a risk...I couldn't really speak to him, not when Dark was demanding that I whip him for holding my gaze for so long, so instead I nodded. The surface elves switched over to their own tongue, which I had only the most basic knowledge of. I caught my name, and a few mentions of someone named 'Ophala,' whoever that was. I waited until they were finished, and then smiled faintly.

"What is to be done with me?"

"First, Fenthick, can...you...attend to her wounds?" Aribeth asked, indicating that I should turn around. I did so, and heard the hiss of indrawn breath, followed by some rapid words in a dialect of elvish that was completely unknown to me. Then, I felt a smooth and touch the bare skin on my mutilated back, and a warmth that was much deeper than the faint infusion of divine power Aribeth was able to call.

"There...there should only be...faint scarring now..." I nodded, touching the tingling spot on my back that I could reach absently.

"Thank you, Fenthick." I whispered, then looked at Aribeth. "What is to be done with me? I cannot leave the city, I cannot go home..." Aribeth looked at me with compassion, and touched my arm gently.

"How...old?" She asked, I winced.

"Two hundred and four." I replied, Aribeth looked at me with wide eyes, I mentally downgraded her age to seventy.

"Ophala should be be..able to help...I am...sorry that...there is nothing..."

"Take me to this Ophala, please." I said firmly, drawing my ragged clothing tighter around myself and trying to summon the dignity that had been second nature to me a few days ago when I was the heir to House Kant'tar, when I was _safe_.

Ophala turned out to be a very young woman, a half elf, to be exact. She couldn't have been more than forty.

She was wearing a cobalt blue dress made of almost transparent silk, and she was very beautiful, for a half breed. Her black eyebrows crawled up her pale forehead when Aribeth, Fenthick and I entered her establishment, the Moonstone Mask. The air was filled with the scents of arousal, and there were dozens of woman, mostly human descent; draped over the arms of a variety of different men. The air was thick with smoke, and it smelled acrid and bitter, making my eyes lid somewhat. I could understand the hum of conversation, due to a spell that Fenthick had read from a scroll, which let me understand Common. In the middle of the smoke filled room, was a small stage, where six gleaming poles that rose to the ceiling were being used by six beautiful females to _dance_ on. When the paladin and the cleric entered, there was a moment of stunned silence which I used to blend into the thick shadows of the place. Soon enough though, the chatter resumed, and the half-elven woman swept over to us.

"Lady Aribeth, Sir Fenthick! I am most surprised to see you in my humble establishment, considering your professions. Perhaps you need some time away from the prying eyes in the temple? If so I have a multitude of rooms upstairs which-"

"We are not here for _that_, Ophala. We need a favour." The paladin was blushing, a deep red that extended to the tips of her ears. The Madam (What else could she be? The place was obviously a brothel!) clapped her hands together and smiled broadly, ruby red lips curving up in a sultry grin that had the cleric clearing his throat.

"Of course, of course! What then, can I do for the servants of Tyr this day?" Aribeth gestured to me, and I reluctantly emerged from the shadows. Despite the blue of my hair, I can be very adapt at blending with my environment, just as any drow. Ophala jumped back in surprise, a perfectly manicured hand held over her heart.

"Is that a _drow_?" I looked at the two surface elves hesitantly, Light telling me that this place was a bordello, filthy and impure, while Dark was rejoicing in the atmosphere of pure sex that hung in the air. My Common was rough, and the words foreign, despite the spell, and I could tell I had a heavy accent.

"I am Elrith, Elrith Kant'tar. I was told you could help me? I cannot return home to my House, or my family, until I am free to leave the city. I-I could pay? I took a fair amount of gold when Ras-I mean, I came to the surface. And I know that my mother, Matron Vassena Kant'tar, would reward you greatly for keeping me safe when I return home." Aribeth stiffened as she realised I was a noblewoman, as did Fenthick. The half-elf, however, pursed her lips thoughtfully, tapping her chin with a painted nail, before smiling gently at me.

"Dear child-"

"I am over two hundred years old, Madam." I interrupted, deadpan.

"Dear woman, then." Ophala began again, a twinkle of amusement present in her emerald eyes. "Pay is not required, you can work for me here, as either one of my..._girls_, or on the poles. I have no doubt that you would attract quite the crowd!" I looked at her dubiously for a moment, then nodded.

"I will work on the poles. But I do not wish to wear anything that exposes my back unless absolutely necessary." Ophala raised a slim eyebrow, and walked behind me to examine the flesh of my back. When she faced me once more, there was a slight expression of sadness in her eyes, but there was also a deep well of greed.

"But my dear Elrith! Those scars make you _exotic_, even more so than being a drow will. Men will wonder about your past, and they will pay a fortune just to keep watching you!" Aribeth stepped forwards, placing a protective hand on my shoulder.

"Ophala..." She warned. I waved a hand to dismiss her concerns.

"It is sound thinking. My old bard used to wear a leather corset and thong when she performed, and her collarbone had been maimed by a Umberhulk. Despite this, she still received much gold, and she had many males to play with. Very well. One night a week, I shall wear something that exposes my scars." Ophala clapped her hands in joy, while Fenthick and Aribeth looked slightly dazed at my description of the outfit my bard had worn.

"Excellent, darling, simply excellent! Come, let's get you dressed...Oh, and another thing. You'll need a stage name. Kant'tar is all very well and good, but it isn't very...appealing. I know! Shadowstepper. You simply melted into the shadows here when you first arrived, and it suits you perfectly! Now, now, don't argue-rule one, Ophala is always right. From now on, you are Elrith Shadowstepper..."

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And so began my life at the Moonstone Mask, I would appear on stage every night, wearing a black leather cat suit that covered me from the neck to my ankles. I would dance on the poles, a mysterious drow sex object, and I would make money to keep my Madam happy. Then, on the last night of the week, I would wear a white leather harness that showed off all my scarring and wrapped around my breasts to clip onto the matching leather thong. I would make lots of gold on those nights, but it didn't make the shame diminish.

My life was hell, but I could deal with it. I had arrived in the middle of a city shut down, and the Lord of the city, Nasher Alogondar, was still also very young and inexperienced. Aribeth told me he was only twenty one in human years, a mere toddler to a elf. She also explained that he would likely live as long as Ophala, due to the fact that there were a number of clerics and wizards working together to save him from the Wailing Death, and this would considerably prolong his life; assuming he survived the plague, of course.

Aribeth and Fenthick didn't come to see me very often, what with the plague and all, and I can't say I minded. They were both so...holy. Light loved them, while Dark was constantly telling me to flay them and put their heads on pikes. I didn't listen to either of them, and would merely nod to the elves when they came to check on my 'progress'.

So it was, that when Fenthick was hung, I went to watch. I was a lone midnight face in a crowd, given a berth of at least three meters by all around me as I looked up at the innocent cleric. Ophala, who turned out to be the head of a group of powerful magic users, called the 'Cloaktower Mages;' had been teaching me more advanced magic. I had waited until Aribeth had stood beside her lover and kissed him farewell, and I had raised a single hand. Fenthick had nodded, and I whispered the words for _Power word: Kill_. He had died, and Nasher had hung a corpse. It wasn't much, but I think it helped Aribeth survive for as long as she did before turning to evil. I wasn't surprised when I heard she had, but I _did_ take that as my moment to give a smile for the intrigues and plots of my home. The humans were naïve, foolishly so. They knew nothing of revenge, of pain. I am drow, I know. I had understood _far_ before they did that Aribeth would turn, and I knew she would target the city as the source of her revenge. So, I warned Ophala that war was coming, and she fortified the Mask in preparation.

I was right.

When the Luskans attacked, it was business as usual in the Moonstone Mask, though I went to watch Aribeths execution as well, doing the same thing for her as I had for Fenthick. I felt sorrow at the Blackguards passing, she too, was a victim of misplaced love.

In the aftermath, when almost all of the city was destroyed, my benefactor told me that business had never been better, but that she had to let me go. She wanted to make the place 'respectable' in the new Neverwinter. I had been working at the Mask for almost ten years, and I had quite the stash of gold. She told me that far north, there was a place called Hilltop, in which a dwarf named Drogan Droganson wished to start a academy for adventurers. She said that I could help him, maybe learn from him, and that one day; I would be able to return home.

So I left the city of Neverwinter, in much the same way I had arrived. It was raining, there were clouds in the sky, and lightning was striking. But I was no longer afraid; or clad in second hand rags.

I hated the surface, and I hated the humans, but I would do whatever it took to return to my home, even if it took me another fifty years.

_End._

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_Notes:_

_Well, there you are, Lady Miyu! I hope it was alright..._

_If anyone else reads this, and has not read my OTHER fanfiction, the character is my drow, Elrith Shadowstepper. This is a recollection of her time in Neverwinter:D_

_darthiir: Surface elf._

_Rivven: Humans_

_Catra._


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